By The Light Of The Moon
by leeloo2606
Summary: My seemingly perfect life is about to have a rude awakening. And now I find myself seeking help from those good for nothing Marauders! Can things get any worse, wait they just have. Please R&R!


**A/N: My first attempt at a humorous fic w/first person pov. I don't think it's good but I feel it has some potential!**

By The Light Of The Moon

Some people call me neurotic, others will call me insane, and this one time my muggle best friend said I was 'anal.' Yeah, like she knows anything about Freud. And what does he know anyway? He was a sad old man who relied on a relatively small sample size. I don't think that someone who only studied middle age married women knows anything about a sixteen year old witch! Well, he doesn't!

But I digress. By now some of you may be asking yourselves: 'What is this girl talking about? Or, 'what the bullock type of story is this?' To you people I answer, 'Watch your language! I'll get to it!'

You see the story goes that I am a self named do-it-right-do-it-perfect-and-if-you-can't-do-it-the-first-time-do-it-again girl. And what has that done for me? Well I'll tell you. At the age of four I was classified as highly gifted when my I.Q. test proved I was well beyond the realm of intelligence of my fellow preschool friends. In my primary school days I became obsessed with numbers, especially the perfect ones that would appear at the top of my assignments next to the lopsided happy faces the teachers would scribble.

And so I studied. On my evenings off I studied. Instead of going to sleepovers with my friends or taking dance classes, I studied. I studied physics, math, philosophy, and psychology with my dad, a muggle, and a professor at a prestigious private university. I studied magic with my mum, who is a witch and the head of the Department of Magical Education in the International Wizarding Headquarters. I studied my arse off and I still do.

When I started Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry six years ago I was eager to start over at a new school where my talents could be newly appreciated. I quickly rose through the ranks of my class and soon I had acquired the top position, which by that time was the only place I knew. I have received an obscene amount of O's and very few E's. And I was even made prefect. And then two days ago, the day I received my final letter from Hogwarts, I got the culminating honor that any student could ever wish to receive. I was made Head Girl!

Now let me stop there and address some of the questions you might be having. First of all, no, I am not full of myself. I just happen to think that a person's academic career is the most important thing they can fulfill. And I have had the aptitude to make my career flawless. So there! I am not full of myself; I'm just convinced of my abilities.

Now you may be asking, well with all of the studying this girl must not have a social life. Well…I do have friends. Yes, I do! I mean just because I would rather spend my free weekends proof reading my papers instead of taking a hogsmeade trip does not make me a social outcast. Oh, it does, does it? Well at least I have real friends. There's Cashlin, and Taegan who've been my best friends since the day we sat in the same compartment on the Hogwarts express. They're the best, a bit shallow, but the best none the less.

A boyfriend? I refuse to answer that question at this time for reasons I will not specify. You can go ahead and draw your own conclusions on that situation but at this point I would like to continue with the story.

So here I am sitting in my room going over the quantum physics paper I wrote for my father. You want to hear it? No? Well here it is anyway:

"Hard partons, or jets, in relativistic heavy-ion collisions can serve as "hard probes" of the dense matter environment produced in collisions of nuclei, for instance by tagging them with a photon. Hard partons in heavy-ion collisions may therefore be used in two ways: first, actively, as a "densometer" probing the medium, and second, passively, as quanta that are modified by the medium. That is, both the properties of the medium (using hard partons as probing objects), as well as the modification of jets inside a medium (using hard partons as study objects) may be investigated-"

"Leandra? Are you up there?"

Hey stop breathing sighs of relief! It happens to be an excellent paper and I worked really hard on it. Now let's see what this interruption is about.

"Yes, what is it?" My voice carries well in this house. I think people can hear me from any room.

"Groceries."

Ughh! It must be Tuesday. Monsieur Vidar always goes to the grocery store on Tuesdays. Him and his muggle ways. I'll never understand them. I'll be on my way now.

"Hi sweetheart," he says with a sweet kiss on my face. Boy my kitchen's bright. "How's that paper coming?"

"All done, just rereading it." Yeah, like for the hundredth time. But he doesn't need to know that. I'm neurotic right? Scratch that last bit.

"That's my girl," he begins rummaging through the paper bags.

"Are we going to eat soon because I'm hungry?"

"Yes, soon."

I reach for the nearest bag and take out an avocado. Avocados? Yuck.

"Eww, yuck, gross why did you bring these?"

"They happen to be good for you," he says completely ignoring the look of disgust that just came over me.

"I don't care! They are gross and I won't eat them ever and you can't make me and-Mom!" I cry as I see my beautiful mother walking in through the kitchen door. "You're home to rescue me from the wretched 'alligator pear' that father is forcing me to eat."

"Oh, Lea, quit being so dramatic and eat your avocado."

My parents were to busy kissing each other hello to notice I had stuck out my tongue at them. "Great public display of affection, my inner child thanks you. But can we please get down to the situation at hand? Your one and only daughter need's you, her caloric intake is dwindling and it is in desperate need of replenishing!"

Mrs. Vidar let go of her husband and looked over at her only child with mild amusement. "Why don't you just take care of it yourself? You are aware that you're allowed to do magic now, right?"

"Indeed!" I exclaim. Having turned seventeen only a few days earlier, I had almost forgotten that the underage restriction laws no longer applied to me. Feeling extremely mature and important I pull out my wand and concentrate. _"Pasto Serale," _I say and in an instant a steaming plate of halibut and asparagus appears on the counter in front of me.

"I'll take the old fashion way, thank you very much," my father confesses as I dig into my food. He takes out a skillet and begins preparing his meal.

"What and give up the ease of magic?" I tell him. "No thanks!"

Dinner is a short affair as I am eager to finish my paper. I race up the stairs and almost crash onto the wooden railing, I feel dizzy all of a sudden.

"What the heck?" I say as I rub my aching shoulder. I shake my head to try and ease the throbbing pain that is beginning to emerge. "Mom, where's the aspirin?"

Half an hour later my paper is untouched and I am lying in bed under a pile of blankets. The aching has now moved through my head and to my entire body. I am shaking with a cold sweat and I swear I have a fever. Mom is sitting by my bed ready to fulfill any of my needs which right now include:

water (so thirsty),

removal of my blankets (it's so hot!)

replacing of my blankets (so cold)

Whispering of soothing words

Dad is standing at the foot of my bed staring at me with caring eyes. I feel like death.

Sleep doesn't come easy but when it does my mind is littered with awkward dreams. When I wake next, the pain is gone and I actually feel good. My body feels as if it's curled comfortably on the bed. Raising my head I find my mother and father staring at me their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Mother has tears in her eyes and father looks concerned. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. For a moment I feel as if I'm still dreaming, my entire room is in bright shades of gray.

"Leandra," my mother calls to me. Her voice is painfully clear and about ten decibels higher than what I remember. I cringe in response, or at least that's what it feels like I do. "Can you understand me?" she asks.

I stare at her in disbelief. Of course I can understand her, what is she getting at? I try to explain this to her but my second attempt at speech yields no result.

"Don't try to speak, honey. You need to keep calm. There is something your father and I need to discuss with you, but now may not be the best time."

Okay, now I am completely confused. Have I lost my speech? Am I in some kind of dizziness induced coma? Determined to find out I raise myself from the covers and leap out of bed.

Wait a minute did I just leap? Confused I look at, or rather up at my parents who are still staring at me with concern. Am I crawling? I ask myself looking down at my feet. Those aren't feet! Paws! Aaahhh!

**A/N: Please take the time to tell me what you think, I will respond to anything even flames. Please review!**


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